“I understand. Your office is off-limits unless you tell me to be there.” Her eyes fluttered from his to the wall, straining to maintain eye contact. They hadn’t made it down the rest of the west corridor when Anthony looked at his watch.
“I have business I must do. It is seven twenty-five. I want you back at my office at ten thirty. You have some debt to pay off.” He obviously enjoyed the uncomfortable feeling his remarks produced. “Do you think you can find your way back to your suite?”
“Yes, I can. But do I have to?” She told him how she would like to go back to the library and look around. She promised she would be back by ten thirty.
He hesitated but reluctantly agreed. “We have not discussed all of the rules pertaining to the house. At this point, do not go outside. Permission for going out on the grounds will be contingent upon your ability to follow rules within the house.”
“I understand, and I will be back by ten thirty.” Filled with exhilaration Claire walked down the marble corridor toward the library. The sensation of her shoes on the marble floor, the sound of her steps, and the coolness of the empty hall thrilled her senses. To be so deprived of anything except the same four walls, no matter how beautiful, and to be free to roam was ecstasy. She had three hours to spend in the library.
Anthony’s collection of books was amazing. He had classics, “Tale of Two Cities,” “Pride and Prejudice,” “Great Expectations,” “Moby Dick,” and literally hundreds more. There were resource books, encyclopedias, dictionaries, and language translation books. She found biographies and memoirs, science fiction, romance, and fantasy. Just as she entered another section Anthony met her face to face. Once again, she jumped, but this time he wasn’t smiling.
Claire’s mind spun, I can’t be late, I have been watching that clock over there. The clock read 10:37. Where had the time gone? “Oh, Anthony, I am so sorry. I was just engrossed in all you have—”
His hand stuck her cheek. She didn’t fall but wobbled off balance. He then pulled her toward him. His hand warm on the back of her neck, entwined in her hair, caused her face to tilt upward until all she could see were his penetrating eyes.
“Simple instructions, which are what I gave you. Perhaps you are not ready to leave your suite quite yet.” He loosened the grip on her hair.
“No, please don’t say that. I can follow instructions, I can.” Claire didn’t want to beg, but she couldn’t stand the thought of being locked in her suite another day.
“Follow me to my office, now.”
Each of his strides equaled three of Claire’s, she practically ran to keep up. When they reached the double doors of his office, he opened one and shoved her inside. She had only seen his office doors, but now she looked around the interior. Like everything else in the mansion it was lavish and substantial. The walls were surfaced with more of the impressive cherry paneling, decorative trim, and ornate bookcases. There was a very impressive mahogany desk, a leather sofa, chairs, and a conference table. His desk contained many computer screens as well as a large screen on the wall that could be one or divided into multiple screens. Currently, it was subdivided, and each screen contained stock information. The lights on the telephone indicated that it contained multiple lines.
He turned and locked the door. Claire’s heart pounded in her chest, her face felt flush, and she could feel herself begin to tremble. Standing alone in the vastness of his office she watched Anthony as he contemplated his next move. His angry expression included the completely black eyes she witnessed in her suite two weeks before. After a protracted silence, he spoke with an even flat tone.
“So you say you can follow instructions, we will see.” The debate was over. It was the outcome that frightened Claire. A few hours ago he had been another person. Now the man standing before her was the same one who abused her so violently the first two nights of her stay. His grin wasn’t playful, it was ruthless. “Let’s start with you taking off your clothes.”
Doing her best to be obedient, Claire did as she was told and removed her clothes, starting with her shoes and ending with her sweater. Next he told her to lie down on the carpet, face first and keep her eyes down. She did and felt the plush carpet rough against her skin. The vulnerability of the position alarmed her, intensifying her trembling. She couldn’t see or hear his movements. Straining to listen she eventually heard his belt as it passed each loop. The first lash hit so unexpectedly that it made her scream out in agony and shock. She moved her hand to her mouth, bit down, and refused to scream anymore.
When she didn’t respond he turned her over, stood above her, and removed his tie and slacks. He didn’t say a word but watched for her reaction. Perhaps she was in shock. Whatever it was, Claire was unable to respond. She watched, knowing that whatever he chose to do would be bad. His hands forcibly moved her legs as she watched, disengaged as if in another dimension. The scene she saw was brutal and domineering. By the grace of God, she felt everything in a removed yet present fashion. She watched his actions and heard his demands. She was present, saw his expression, felt his body, smelled his skin, and tasted her shame. Yet she was somehow detached, not there. By the time he finished, her body exhibited various rug burns, and her hair was tangled and matted from the same lush carpet.
Anthony Rawlings callously stood and dressed. He paused for a moment, standing six feet above her, and then silently walked to the attached bathroom. There he combed his hair and replaced the tie he’d removed. Meanwhile, Claire sat in the middle of the room involuntarily shivering, holding her clothes, and silently weeping, unsure what to do.
Returning to the office he looked at her with disdain, his tone flat and cold. “You may go to your suite, clean yourself up, and get ready to demonstrate to me again your ability to follow instructions.”
Claire began to gather her clothes and dress when he added “Do not leave your suite until I decide. Your pass to roam is revoked.” Her mind was beyond comprehension, thinking outside of the box was more than she could handle. She remembered an agreement with herself for self-preservation, conceding to demands. Yet at this moment in time, Claire didn’t know or understand what she was doing, agreeing to, or being forced to do. She was lost and most likely suffering from shock. She only remembered his directives to go back to her suite and clean up.
Leaving his office she turned toward the grand staircase. Beyond the stairs through the magnificent foyer with the high ceiling Claire saw the double doors that led to the outside. They were tall and ornate. Without thinking she walked toward them, perhaps she should have run, but no one was around. The house was empty, like a museum. She could hear her heart pound in her ears as she approached the handle wondering if it would open. She wouldn’t learn. Suddenly, she heard the sound of shoes on the marble floor of the corridor. The footsteps didn’t sound rushed but determined and were getting closer. Claire quickly turned and began the ascent to the second floor. She didn’t look back down. She didn’t want to see the person that produced the footsteps, especially if that person would meet her gaze with a black-eyed stare. Instead, she walked toward her suite.
By the time she closed the door her internal monologue was in full gear. He actually hit me with his belt! My god! The man is mad. I have to find a way out of here!
At that moment, she didn’t search for an escape. Instead, she showered, redid her hair, her makeup, and put on another outfit. While she cleaned herself up she contemplated fleeing. Questions arose. Where would she go? How would she get there? How far to civilization? And what were her chances of success? And most importantly, if she failed, what would he do?